


volition

by LadyAniko



Series: Zutara December Drabbles 2020 [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Longer War, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAniko/pseuds/LadyAniko
Summary: Ba Sing Se, fallen, thanks to Princess Azula and the help she received from the formerly banished Prince.The Northern Water Tribe is the last stronghold left, and Ozai is gearing up to destroy it. If he attacks now, with the might of the Earth Kingdom behind him, he will win. The war will be over.All those people.It’s all those people, or her. Of course it has to be her. Alliance is the only right thing to save them. The only right choice.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zutara December Drabbles 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037787
Comments: 25
Kudos: 104
Collections: ZK Drabble December 2020





	volition

**Author's Note:**

> These things always end up turning into something resembling prologues rather than self-contained one shots.🤦
> 
> If it helps, this one is very likely to turn into a full WIP at some point. It definitely would not just be rated T. If that interests you, I'd love to know it! And I hope this little thing is still enjoyable.
> 
> Written for Zutara Drabble December Prompt 13: Spine

* * *

Katara hates that her hands are shaking so violently at her sides.

She hates that she’s afraid, and she hates them for giving her a reason to be. She’s told herself over and over and over again that she refuses to be afraid but somehow it still creeps into her lungs and threatens to strangle her as she walks through the splendor of this foreign palace, filled with people she so despises. Every person that passes them regards the little party with open curiosity and disgust.

It’s not difficult to understand why. How often do members of any water tribe pass through these corridors?

 _I chose this_ , Katara tells herself, as the group’s footsteps echo through the vastness. _I chose this, I chose this, I chose this._

 _Did you, though?_ a nasty little voice whispers in her ear. _What choice did you really, actually have? It was you or all of them. You or the entire tribe. Both the tribes._ _What is a choice, really, in a world like this?_

Panic swells, closing her throat. Katara forces it away before black spots can swim into her vision. She can’t think like this. She can’t.

The guards accompanying them pause outside what are undoubtedly the doors to the throne room. They are too majestic, too imposing and too overly extravagant to be anything else. There’s a brief silence in which the guards stare warily at the water tribe foreigners—Katara, Chief Arnook, and her own father, Hakoda. The tension in the air is thick enough to slice.

“Only the lady goes in,” says one of the guards finally.

“What?” Her father’s voice is sharp. “No.”

“Fire Lord Ozai has no reason to meet with either of you. No one else is to enter.”

“That’s not happening,” Hakoda snarls, taking a step forward, but Katara’s arm shoots out.

“Dad,” she begins, and he turns to face her, his eyes wild.

“Katara,” he says. The air of desperation in his voice tells her that it’s his final plea. “This isn’t necessary. I told you, you don’t—”

“I do,” she says, simply. “It’s okay. I agreed. I consented.” She keeps her voice carefully calm, not only for her father’s sake but also for hers. If he tries to convince her to turn back now she just might listen, and she can’t do that.

Ba Sing Se, fallen, thanks to Princess Azula and the help she received from the formerly banished Prince.

The Northern Water Tribe is the last stronghold left, and Ozai is gearing up to destroy it. If he attacks now, with the might of the Earth Kingdom behind him, he will win. The war will be over.

All those people.

It’s all those people, or her. Of course it has to be her. Alliance is the only right thing to save them. The only right choice.

 _And I did_ _ch_ _o_ _ose this_ , she reminds herself, but there’s a lump of despair in her throat.

Her father hugs her tightly. His shoulders are shaking. She can’t look at him.

Chief Arnook grips her shoulder and stares at her in silent, solemn gratitude, and then she’s turning sharply away.

The guards usher her forward.

They push open the double doors, and Katara, in order to keep her head, lets her mind drift to the night before she left the Northern Water Tribe, remembers what Hama had told her when she’d entered her room. _When you see them_ , Hama had told her, d _on’t you dare_ _appear_ _frightened._ Hama was always sparking with a barely tamed, dangerously brimming furor; a rage at all the wrongs done.

Hama, Katara knows, wants to win at any cost. And now that cost is Katara.

 _You walk in,_ Hama had instructed. _You stand up tall. Chin up. Keep your spine perfectly straight. Always straight and proud._

Katara takes the few steps into the throne room, automatically pushing the line of her back up, following the advice from her memory. It's a monstrous, cavernous room, but Katara can see the throne at the far end, surrounded by flames.

Spine straight. Tall and straight and proud.

Katara starts walking, her footsteps painfully loud, her breathing coming in shorter gasps.

 _You’re a_ _woman now_ _,_ she hears Hama say. _You’re beautiful. The Fire Lord will be pleased when he sees you. Don’t you worry about that._

Katara tilts her chin higher, focusing on keeping her hands steady and her face neutral. The figures are coming into sharper clarity; one on the throne that Katara knows to be Fire Lord Ozai, and one sitting to his right.

 _This_ _can_ _not_ _be_ _a_ _true_ _surrender._ Hama’s voice in her head is harsher now; the energy in her had flared up, spilled over, and she’d taken Katara by both shoulders and stared at her intently. _T_ _his,_ _too, must be_ _strategy. The Fire Lord will be pleased_ _with you_ _, and he will agree to_ _marry his son to you_ _._ _But it will be his greatest mistake. You are a woman now. You must weaken the prince, Katara. Make_ _your husband_ _love you. Men are easy. Get into his heart, gather what you need to win, use him._ _It is not enough to assassinate Ozai. You must own the prince. He is the heir._ _Do this, Katara, and we still can and_ will _bring them all down to their knees_ _before us, where they belong._

Katara is now standing before the throne. Her vision is swimming, but then it focuses on the two men sitting on the platform above her.

She quickly kneels.

 _Not a true surrender_ , Hama’s voice whispers, so Katara says, respectfully, “Fire Lord Ozai.”

“Ah,” murmurs the Fire Lord, and when Katara peeks up his fingertips are pressed together and he’s smiling. “So Chief Arnook told the truth about you. What luck you have, Prince Zuko. Did you ever imagine you could have a woman so lovely with a face like yours?”

Katara almost gasps at the cruelty lacing his voice. She’s very glad she’s able to trap the sound behind her lips.

For the first time, her gaze slides to the man she’s to marry. Prince Zuko’s face expression flickers when he meets her eyes, but otherwise he looks carefully controlled. Almost impassive. A scar covers his entire left eye and extends to his ear; it’s from a burn. His hair is in a tight bun atop his head, his eyes glow in the flames, and his features are sharp.

His mouth twists ever so slightly downward as they look at each other. It could not be more clear he doesn’t want her.

“Very lovely, Father,” he agrees, sliding his gaze away from Katara and over to the Fire Lord.

Ozai gives her a dangerous smile. “Rise.”

Katara moves to stand. The shaking has moved from her fingers to her kneecaps, but she does her best to ignore that, too.

Instead she pushes her back up proudly. Spine straight. Tall and straight and proud.

“I suppose we can look past your peasantry for our agreement, though know I’m not thrilled about it,” says Ozai, and Katara bites the retort on her tongue. “Still, with my son’s disfigurement we also have to shoot lower, hm? You were raised in the Northern Water Tribe, yes?”

“Yes.” She tries to sound meek even though she wants to kill him on the spot. She thinks meekness might work best with men like these.

“Meaning you were only taught to use your bending for healing, yes?”

“Yes,” she lies.

Ozai smiles wider. “Very good. Well then. I suppose we have a wedding to plan.” His gaze is almost mocking as he glances at his son.

The prince’s eyes trail over and land on her again.

 _I chose this_ , she tells herself, when her knees want to collapse under Prince Zuko’s cold gaze. Instead she straightens her spine further and stares determinedly back without blinking. _I chose this._

**Author's Note:**

> [come join me in the void, if you so desire](https://ladyaniko.tumblr.com/)


End file.
